Utilizing a variety of Internet resources as a creative springboard,
choreographer Louise Reichlin has launched herself into cyberspace and
returned with an innovative and entertaining multimedia performance piece.
While not breaking any new choreographic ground, the synergy between technology
and human bodies in motion was always intriguing. The combination of large
screen video projection, well-chosen recorded music, crisply executed dance,
and Ms Reichlin's charming narration provided a constant, and occasionally
overwhelming, flow of images and information.

Ms Reichlin spoke, keyboard on lap, perched on a large blue ball. She
began by briefly detailing her techno-evolution; from wrestling with frustrating
UNIX commands to the joy of point 'n' click web surfing. From what followed,
it was clear that her attraction to Macs and modems is simply as tools
in the service of personal, emotion-driven goals. It is this territory
of feelings that is explored within the five sections of the E-Mail Dances:

Symbol of the Polish ghetto, the Yellow Star reflects Ms Reichlin's
search by Internet genealogical databases for her Jewish roots. Seven dancers
holding long wide strips of yellow-gold fabric, interpret stylized moves
à la Fiddler on the Roof. Weaving and intertwining, they
end the piece by sequentially placing the strips on the floor to form the
six-sided star. At the same time, an overhead shot of the same dance is
being projected on the rear screen. The combination of elements vividly
evoked memories of the once vibrant culture and it's devastating demise.

Re-Relative? - Based on actual messages. This monologue chronicles
her e-mail search for lost relatives. Accompanied by projected images from
her family album, she recounts her luck in finding heretofore unknown cousin
Larry in Pennsylvania. Together, they enthusiastically attempt to recreate
an accurate family history. Reading his messages and mock-typing her responses,
we learn much about the Reichlin family, and can readily identify, but
are eventually buried under an avalanche of names, dates, places and relationships.

Woman in a Room, Woman in the Moon - Music by Nusrat Fateh Ali
Kahn

Danced by Tamara Dowling

My favorite section! This short video starts blandly, in de-saturated
color, as we peer over the shoulder of a woman as she surfs the web. The
magic of video eliminates the annoying wait for loading as a rapid succession
of screen shots are shown. Appropriately, they are all dance-related sites.
(They go by so quickly I missed DANCE!90210) Just as this conceit is wearing
out its welcome, an astronomical page appears with images of comet Hyakutake,
galaxies, etc. As one more ethereal scene begins to load on her monitor,
she raises her hands together. The hands follow the JPEG image as it slowly
scans down the screen.

As the final pixels appear, FLASH! Brilliant colors appear, as the woman
hyper-dives through the monitor into the gravity-free realms of deep space.
The low-rent EFX, no Toy Story budget here, does not at all dampen
the contagious euphoria of dancer Dowling as she flies, cartwheels, jetés,
spins and waxes ecstatic across the dramatic spacescape. The final image
is an overhead shot of her tiny computer cubicle, the empty desk chair
spinning. Very cool.

Contest - Music by Alfred Desio
Danced by Allison Higa & Ken Arata

Intrigued by how singles become couples through chat rooms, Newsgroups,
BBSes, etc., Ms Reichlin created a duet exploring what happens when an
athletic female places an online personal ad in search of an equally fit
male. What ensues is a physically demanding encounter, that begins warily
as the two participants in this mating match alternately display their
athletic prowess while checking each other out. The distance between them
gradually decreases. Urged on by natural attraction and the pounding score,
the woman becomes the aggressor with running leaps onto his back. The romantic
hand-to-hand combat, the stylized acrobatics and wrestling were dynamically
performed by Higa and Arata.

The final section begins with Ms Reichlin speaking about the passing
of her father and the eventual disposition of his ashes. Ms Williams appears
as a tall, lithe, white-shrouded ashen-masked spectre of Death (wearing
a mysterious headpiece, that vaguely suggests a satellite dish and should
probably be re-thought). With gestures ghostly and frantic she sets free
the souls of two bodies, one bearing the yellow star, providing a link
between the many deaths of the Holocaust and the singular death of the
father.

The beta version of The E-Mail Dances will be performed at Barnsdall
Park on June 3. It will be interesting to watch as this ambitious project
evolves towards its final release.